The Winter Knight, page 8
He wondered for a moment whether he had gone too far, been just too fawning in his manner. Dietmar gave a weak smile. ‘It is said that the knights of your Order are uniformly arrogant. That you care about nothing outside your service to the Church and your own kind. It is an attitude you will find common in Swabia. Bernhard has tried to persuade me otherwise, for he has experience of your Order. I think perhaps we sometimes see only the red cross and forget that it is being worn by men.’
Arnau smiled in return. ‘Lord Dietmar, I have brought from Rourell the personal effects of your brother, which have been preserved since his arrival at the house. I was not certain to whom they should pass with Graf Rüdolf not present, but I think that now, perhaps they ought to be given to you? At least until the matter of the wills is concluded.’
Dietmar waved a hand dismissively. ‘Keep them, for now anyway. I have enough to deal with, in the castle and in my heart, with the passing of my son. I have no wish at this time to be pressed into fresh mourning for my brother.’
Arnau winced. Damn it, that was clumsy. Still, it did not seem to have angered the lord, merely to have made him sag into himself just a little more. Ah well, since he’d raised the subject and not been shouted down…
‘On the matter of the will,’ he said hesitantly, ‘I hope that it will be a quick task to compare the documents and resolve the matter. I appreciate that it is your family’s property of which we speak, and were it not for the fact that the Order has already been administering them for so many years it might seem…’ he tailed off. ‘I am sorry about this. The timing is poor.’
Dietmar shrugged. ‘After your visit, and that of Gerdrut last evening, I sent for the will, but it seems to have vanished, and no one appears to know what happened to it. The one man who would definitely know, of course, is my son.’
Arnau sighed. ‘What is to happen with the graf, Rüdolf?
‘He is lying in state in the vault below the castle. He will be eulogised and then interred at the church in the town when the snow allows. We have no mausoleum here and the family are all at the church in Renfrizhausen. The weather has prevented swift dealing with the matter, unfortunately.’
Arnau pictured the two gravediggers who had directed him to the castle. Had they been preparing a hole for the young lord? He shook off the notion. If the weather had kept the family here, it seemed unlikely the village church would yet know of the death. Besides, surely a man of the graf’s standing would be interred in a proper mausoleum or in the church itself.
‘It would seem that we are similarly trapped here by the elements,’ Arnau sighed, ‘but I would consider it an honour to attend the service when the weather clears, before we depart.’
The lord simply nodded and drank from his cup, placing it on the table beside him.
Arnau’s mind was racing now. The will was missing. The young lord murdered just a couple of days before the arrival of the document that would prove or disprove the inheritance, and then the will that it all hinged on had vanished. In a way that made things unpleasantly easy for the Templar. The lands would have to remain in the hands of the Order. But it complicated matters at Renfrizhausen, too.
‘My lord,’ he said, troubled, ‘it seems odd that the will should disappear so. I have no wish to see the family lose out simply through such an unfortunate mishap.’
Dietmar nodded. ‘I have men searching for the will. It must still be in the castle. Bernhard is overseeing the search, though he has his hands rather full, since I have also charged him with uncovering the truth behind my son’s death.’
Arnau drummed his fingers on his hip. ‘Have you any idea who might have reason for such a black deed, my lord?’
‘I am hopeful that Bernhard will conclude, as we suspect, that an interloper happened upon Rüdolf and killed him in a struggle. The family and the castle’s staff are beyond suspicion, each and every one, and the morning after it happened, the main gate was found to be unlocked. It is the simplest explanation, and one that I can put down to the will of God without any deeper melancholy.’
Arnau nodded. It was possible. Especially with bandits in the castle’s proximity, of course. But somehow he didn’t believe a word of it. A passing bandit slips into the castle, stumbles upon the young lord, kills him, steals his will and drops the body down the well? Whatever the graf thought of his family and staff’s loyalty, Arnau was convinced that one of them was somehow responsible.
‘If the will is missing, it seems likely that this entire business is over money and land, my lord,’ he said hesitantly. ‘That being the case, it is perhaps likely some impoverished acquaintance who would have most to gain. Your noble self and your family are surely powerful enough to be able to shrug off the loss of a few acres to the Order?’
He wondered if he’d gone too far then, for that familiar flare of anger from yesterday shone once more in Dietmar’s eyes, but it quickly burned out, and the lord sighed. ‘Would that it were the case, Tempelritter. Sadly, our family is not as wealthy as once we were. By the standards of our peers we are a poor cousin indeed. Any generation that loses lands makes the family progressively poorer. When our cousin ran off to join the Swabian Hospitallers in Outremer, then helped found the Order of the Teutons, my grandfather was furious. His decision was in the end accepted because the connections he made among our countrymen in the order were valuable in themselves.’
He seemed to sag inwards once more. ‘But when Lütolf ran off to join a foreign order at the other side of the world and gave away valuable farms and tenant lands, he was cursed from every mountain peak in Swabia. Your very presence with that red cross on your chest reminds everyone of that day. In some ways you represent loss for the family.’
Arnau nodded. ‘I can only apologise and offer my sympathy. In fact, I understand your plight more than most. My own family had become poor vassals of the Counts of Barcelona and I fear that we would not have survived another generation without losing our lands and castle entirely. I entered the Order in desperation. A title is not always supported by heaps of gold.’
The lord gave him an appraising glance. ‘Perhaps there is more to you than anyone expects, Herr Tempelritter. I shall be sure to send for you if the will is found, or when there is progress on my son’s funeral. In the meantime, Bernhard will no doubt keep you abreast of matters. For now, I feel the need to rest once more. My nights are filled with demons and sleep comes only in tatters these days.’
Arnau bowed. ‘I am pleased that we have been able to speak thusly, Lord Dietmar. Once again, you have my respect and my sympathy, and if there is anything I can do, you have but to ask.’
The lord of Renfrizhausen’s eyes narrowed. ‘You want to help? Find the blackguard who killed my son.’
Arnau, unsure of what else to say in response, simply bowed his head. ‘I will help however I can.’
With that, he stepped back and opened the door, ushering Felipe from the room. Just outside, as he closed the door once more, Anselm waited with their swords, handing them out. For a moment, Arnau was filled with suspicion. Had the guard been standing outside the chamber with his ear pressed to the wood, listening to their every word? Had he reason to hate his young lord or envy his lands? He chided himself over his overactive imagination. Whatever Anselm’s motives, he would learn little from listening at the door with his clearly limited understanding of the language they had been speaking.
Thanking the man and belting on his sword once more, he and his squire marched out from the corridor, down the stairs and into the antechamber. Spotting Bernhard just outside in the courtyard, he made for the door but paused in the archway for a moment, recognising the red-bearded form of the guard who had struck him on the stairs speaking to the marshal. He waited until the pair’s conversation ended, watching the surly brute head for the stables. Before the marshal could stride away, Arnau emerged into the cold and waved to him.
‘Bernhard, good morning again. Thank you for the introduction to the lord, Dietmar. Our exchange was considerably more agreeable this time. I think I begin to understand, also, the unpopularity with which I have been greeted on the whole.’
The marshal gave a curt snapped nod of the head. ‘Herr Tempelritter. Yes, times here are tense and the red cross is not well looked upon.’
‘You wished to hear of Lütolf’s time with the Order,’ Arnau said, carefully. ‘Perhaps in return you might enlighten me as to why he came to us in the first place? I spoke to Lütolf about it a little, and he intimated that there had been some sort of argument.’
Bernhard nodded. ‘It is not a conversation to hold here, though. Perhaps tonight. For now I have much to do.’
‘I understand. Dietmar has you looking into the loss of the will and the death of Rüdolf both. You must be run ragged.’
‘In truth, I am far from sure where to even start with that last,’ Bernhard sighed. ‘Come.’ Quickly, he led them from the courtyard and into a doorway in the range below their room. It appeared to be a small guardroom of sorts and was currently empty. As Arnau closed the door behind them, Bernhard stirred up the fire in the grate and tossed a few more logs upon it. Finally, rubbing his hands over the flames to warm them, he resumed.
‘This is another conversation best not held in the open, master Arnau. It is important, of course, that a man in my position be seen to be efficient, in control and a step ahead of everyone. Sadly, I can claim none of those things today. I am a soldier and a commander of men, not some shrewd investigator of criminal acts. In the matter of the missing will, I have searched the castle with the aid of my men, paying as much personal attention as possible. Indeed, I searched the graf’s chamber myself, under the watchful eye of the Hochwohlgeboren Ute. I can find no sign of the will, and have interviewed everyone but the lord and ladies, to no avail. It has vanished.’
‘When was it last seen?’
‘There was a discussion about it around a week ago. Since then, as far as I know it was kept by Graf Rüdolf. He and his father argued the night of his death, I understand. Perhaps the will was involved, but I know not.’
Arnau frowned. An argument? This was news, though not welcome news. He could not believe, especially after seeing the old man’s reactions, that he might be somehow responsible for his son’s passing. But an argument the night of the death was too coincidental to be ignored.
‘And what of the death?’ he asked.
‘I have made little progress,’ admitted Bernhard. ‘It is too difficult and delicate. The gate was found to be unlocked. Had there been snow, footprints might have clarified matters, but the courtyard is regularly cleared of snow, and so there were no marks to identify. In truth, I am very much hoping that all evidence points to an interloper so that I can discipline the man who left open the door and be done with it. At least then the matter will be closed and further suspicions can be allayed.’
Arnau nodded. ‘I understand. I will be most surprised, however, if the evidence points to that. It seems so happenstance and unlikely. My heart tells me there is more to it. If you are amenable, I would like to try and help you unravel this tragic mystery? We are more or less trapped here by the weather, and Felipe and I can offer an objective view on matters, being strangers.’
‘In truth I would be grateful for any assistance,’ the marshal said. ‘I am so very perplexed by the entire matter, and I do not enjoy digging into such a miserable subject. How would you suggest we proceed?’
Folding his arms and chewing his lip, the Templar thought it through. ‘I would like to hear everything that is known about the death. Then we can speak to each and every person within the walls and learn what they were about at the time of the death. Someone was with the graf when he died. We need to try and pare down the facts until we can work out whom.’
Bernhard nodded. ‘I will arrange for the entire castle’s staff to be available for interview tomorrow. Today I have them performing a second search for the will. Perhaps I can leave it to you, Herr Tempelritter, to speak to the family. It is not my place, and I am more than a little uncomfortable in what amounts to an interrogation of my own master and mistresses.’
Arnau agreed, unfolding his arms and coming to join him at the fire, warming his fingers. ‘Then perhaps I should introduce myself to the ladies?’
‘There will be ample occasion for that at lunch,’ Bernhard said.
As they fell quiet, Arnau looked into the dancing fire.
Where were you killed? He asked the shade of Rüdolf von Ehingen amid the flames. Who by, and where?
Chapter Six
Thursday afternoon
Arnau and Felipe secured their room, the knight pocketing the key, and strode along the corridor, wrapping their heavy wool and fur cloaks about them in preparation as the chimes continued to ring out, calling the castle’s occupants to the hall for lunch. Down the stairs they went and out into the cold courtyard, crossing to the main range.
The clouds had lowered noticeably once more, thickening and darkening, ready for the next scattering of white. The pathways that had been cleared across the stone had become part-frozen now and were treacherous, so one of the kitchen staff was busy throwing hot ash upon them from the fires left after the meal’s preparation. Other colleagues of hers were busy ferrying baskets and trays of food across the courtyard, while other guards and staff descended upon the door.
On the way down the long corridor with the tapestry, Arnau reminded himself to examine it more closely at some point. Though he should have plenty of time to do such things, it seemed to keep filling up without warning. They pressed on, into the hall.
A serf stood waiting to take their cloaks, and Arnau handed his over with a nod of thanks and then made his way forward. Where they had been seated the previous day there was now only one empty seat, a worn-looking and slightly wall-eyed guard sat in the second one. Arnau scoured the room for Bernhard, but caught sight of Michael Trost, the seneschal, instead. He made where should I sit motions, and at the man’s smile turned to realise that the serf with his cloak was gesturing for him to follow. Of course, the fellow wouldn’t speak French.
‘Bitte?’ the man said, pointing with a hand poking out from under the garments.
Leaving Felipe with a little regret and considerably more trepidation, he followed. The squire was seated where he was yesterday, next to that guard, who gave him the sort of look a man might reserve for a stinking garderobe. Arnau followed the serf, who led him unexpectedly around the top table. Once more there were five seats there and the two ladies occupied the left two, the lounging minstrel the right. Arnau was shown to the seat next to the Hungarian, and sat with a nod of gratitude, feeling his nerves rising.
The top table, with the family! Clearly his audience with the lord had gone far better than he could have hoped. He must have made just the impression for which he had hoped. All he could wish now was that the Graf Dietmar would join them for the meal, presumably in the high chair at the centre.
The hopes of that faded though, as the last of the castle’s denizens came in and took their seats while the central chair remained empty. The food was served, and seemed to be a cut above yesterday’s fare, though whether that be a true change or simply something to do with the top table, he couldn’t say.
A small plate was placed before him with some curled pastry sprinkled in white, while something pinky-brown in a thick sauce was placed beside it. Arnau peered and took a sniff. It smelled rich, meaty and peppery. The pastry smelled sweet.
‘Deer liver,’ said the man beside him. ‘Eat the pastry first, then the starter. It is one of Dietmar’s favoured dishes.’
Arnau turned to the man, who grinned. ‘Karolus Kovacs, friend of the graf and troubadour to the great houses from here to Strigonium and beyond.’ His accent was exotic and eastern and bore an odd resemblance to some of those Arnau remembered from Constantinople, which soured the experience a little.
‘Well met, master Kovacs. I am—’
‘Arnau de Vallbona, Aragonese knight and brother of the Temple. Yes, everyone in Renfrizhausen is well aware of who you are by now. I have been waiting for a chance to speak to you. With the exception of Bernhard there is a great tendency for the folk of Renfrizhausen to be inward-looking and suspicious of anything that happens beyond the next valley. I fear it is something to do with the remoteness of the estate, a certain mountain nature that I often see in my homeland too. But it will be nice to speak with someone who carries tales of the outside world. I have missed almost four months of life beyond the River Neckar.’
Arnau gave an apologetic shrug. ‘I fear perhaps I am not the greatest bearer of tidings. My very nature means that I mostly see the inside of our monastery in Catalunya. My few topics of conversation will be poor fare compared with yours, sadly.’
Kovacs laughed then. ‘Perhaps it is a good thing that I love the sound of my own voice and the tales tumble from my lips like dice from a desperate man’s hand. I do miss easy conversation, and I am not built for mourning. These sad events of the past few days have torn all the joy from Dietmar, and though I visit him repeatedly, our talks are strained and troublesome, where we have always before been as thick as thieves and as scandalous as unfettered boys.’
Arnau smiled as he took a bite of his pastry. Kovacs was clearly going to be something of a relief in this dour place. After he had swallowed, he cleared his throat. ‘Being as I am something of a stranger here, perhaps you might be able to tell me something about the place and the family?’ He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘The graf has charged me with helping Bernhard uncover the culprit of his woes, and anything I learn may be of value.’
Kovacs finished chewing and Arnau blinked. Both the man’s plates were empty and he’d barely paused in his conversation. How had he managed to eat all that so swiftly?
